The evening sun shone through the windows, making the locker area look orange. Around him, girls and guys were changing their shoes, and then hurrying off home. He glanced at his watch. He was early.
His hands moved upwards to adjust his tie, and he glanced out of the window, where the setting sun formed a diorama with students leaving school as the foreground. The orange light shone on his face, and he enjoyed the warm feeling for a while. Summer was coming soon.
He heard footsteps beside him, and he turned. It was a young girl, one year younger than him, judging by the colour of her school slippers. Her hair was long and glossy black, in a braid so long it swept the back of her knees. She looked up at him, her black eyes clear but sad.
"Takahiro-san?" He asked, smiling. She looked at him for some moments, and seemed to soak in his features, before silently nodding her head, parts of her long fringe coming undone and hung down her small face. "Boku wa Kawamura Takashi desu. Dozo yoroshiku. [1]" He continued, still smiling, his bow bringing his face down to the level of hers.
"Atashi wa Takahiro Iroi desu. Dozo yoroshiku. [1]" Her voice was soft. Her bow was deep, and when she straightened she tried to smile. It was sweet, but the smile seemed unfamiliar to her. She gave up after a while, and her expression reverted back to the blank one she had previously, a blank expression that told nothing. And yet, when Takashi looked into her black eyes, he could sense an overwhelming sense of sadness. They stood like that for a while, the orange sun setting outside of the school, facing each other in the locker area, silently. Awkwardly.
"Takahiro-san," he started, when he realised that they had been silent for a while, "you asked to meet?" His sentence trailed off to form a question, which hung in the air until the girl took it.
"Hai." She nodded slightly. "Chotto matte kudasai. [2]" She walked silently past him and to her locker in the next row. He had already changed into his street shoes. She quietly changed her own shoes, closed the locker, and picked up her bag again. Iroi walked to the door, and when realising that he hadn't followed her, turned around and looked at him puzzledly. "Dozo."
He started, and began to walk towards her, his mind full of questions as he reached where she was. She simply glanced at him, and started walking again, her silent form giving him no answers. Unless he asked.
"Etto... Takahiro-san, where are we going?" The girl was in front of him by a few steps, her small form holding onto her bag tightly as she walked leisurely to a part of the city he wasn't used to. Behind them, the last glimmers of the sunset glowed.
"You asked me to sew you a yukata." Her statements were soft, so soft Takashi had to strain to hear them. "I will need your measurements." She continued walking. He followed, waiting to hear a location. She was not forthcoming. He sighed a bit, not understanding the thoughts of the strange girl at all, and just followed.
They walked until they reached a block of apartments. The girl led the way into the elevator, and they went up to the eighth floor, Takashi still pondering as hard as possible where they could be going. Only when she started to unlock a door with a nameplate that said Takahiro did Takashi finally understood.
"Dozo." She indicated the inside of her apartment, when she realised that Takashi was standing outside of the apartment awkwardly, his face turning a little flushed. He started to say something, but stopped and closed his mouth again, his eyes keep darting between her expressionless face and the inside of her apartment. She tilted her head slightly in puzzlement, and opened the door wider, going in herself first and removing her school shoes whilst leaning against the wall. Nonchalantly she stepped into her home slippers and switched on the lights to her small apartment. Behind her, Takashi gingerly stepped in, his face now red from blushing. He looked around the apartment, nervous as he slipped out of his school shoes and into the other pair of home slippers. He put his bag on the floor next to his shoes, and stepped in, still nervous, looking around him.
Iroi stepped out of the kitchen, holding a steaming cup of green tea. She sat it down on the low table in the middle of the apartment, and started to dig in a small box underneath it. Takashi stepped towards the table, and sat uncomfortably in front of the steaming tea, the heat from the tea seeming to calm him. The windows to the small apartment were thrown open, and the cool evening breeze blew in, making the windchime that hung on the window clink melodiously. Around him, on the worn tatami, he could see neat bundles of cloth, some sewn, some still in bolts. Glancing more in-depth around him, he realised this was one of those one room apartments, which had a kitchen and a bathroom, and one other room. That was the room he was sitting in now, one that was living room by day, and bedroom by night.
He flushed even more, realising that not only was he in a girl's apartment, alone with her, he was now possibly sitting in her bedroom. "Etto..." he coughed, and tried to clear his throat, his voice husky from nervousness. "Shitsurei shimasu... [3]" When the girl looked up from her searching puzzledly, he tried to explain himself, albeit a little hurriedly. "Etto... I'm so sorry for intruding in your home..." he trailed off, his face redder than ever. Realising he was not making any sense, he cleared his throat again. "I mean... you're very kind to invite me to your home... even though we've just met..." His face was now a pretty shade of tomato, as he raised his hand to scratch his head, a reflex action, and laughed nervously.
"O-kyaku-san desu kara. [4]" Her voice drifted towards him, much like the white steam from the green tea. There was very little emotion when she spoke, he realised, and everything she said were simply statements of the truth, with no amusement, nor question. Iroi studied the blushing Takashi for a while, before going back to her searching.
Her statement did not alleviate his nervousness. His hands clutched themselves tighter into fists, and he pressed them against his thighs. Takashi looked down at the cup of green tea, at the green liquid swirling leisurely in the cup, at the white steam that slowly floated up, trying to calm himself, knowing he must look the fool so red in the face. He looked up when he heard her stand up.
She walked towards him, a long measuring tape in her hands, and she put down a worn notebook on the table next to the cup. Looking down at him with that expressionless face of hers, she waited patiently, then puzzledly, as Takashi simply gaped at her from his sitting position. "Would you please stand up?" her soft voice drifted slowly down to Takashi. He started, and then quickly jumped to his feet, still nervous.
She took the measuring tape and eased it around his waist with a studied ease. Takashi looked a bit surprised, and then his face turned even redder at the thought of being in such close distance from a girl. Involuntarily, his body tensed up. The girl looked up at his face, now really red, and at the strange nervous expression that fit his good-natured face so well. Unexpectedly, she giggled.
Startled, he glanced downwards at the girl's face, but she had moved quickly to behind him, and was now measuring the width of his shoulders. Straightening so that the measurement would be accurate, he recalled the sound of her giggle, and he smiled. So she has another side of her than the sad side she shows.
With that thought, he relaxed.
"Yappari, yuumei na Taka-san desu ne. [5]" Her comment was so soft that he thought he had been dreaming. But he could hear it very clearly, even though she had whispered it almost to herself behind him, and he could hear the amusement in her voice, though it seemed a foreign emotion to her.
"Yuumei?" his voice was amused, because he could pretty much guess what "Taka-san" was famous for, only that he didn't know how she heard about him. She moved to measure his arms, and when he turned to look at her, what seemed like a smile hung around her small mouth.
"Aa. Kind, gentle, shy..." she continued, slightly more open than before. Her mouth widened to a real smile as she finished off. "And a beautiful shade of red when he blushes."
The aforementioned colour made its appearance again when Takashi blushed at the comments. The two stayed silent for a while longer, as the girl moved to measure his height, his chest, and around his neck. She was quick in her measurements, and when he looked, her notes on her notebook were neat and precise. After their last exchange of words the smile hung around her face, and it seemed to light up her face. He smiled involuntarily. She was a lot prettier when she smiled.
She walked over to the other side of the table after a while, and indicated that Takashi should sit. Sitting down opposite him, she studied her notebook for a while, using her pencil to sketch something on the other page, before looking up at Takashi. He smiled at her. She tried to smile back, this time the smile fitting her face a lot easier, as if it was something that she grew better at the more she practised. Looking down at her notebook again, her smile remaining, she looked up. "You've asked me to sew you a yukata. When do you need it by?"
He thought for a while, glancing at the tatami floor. "Next month, I think."
"The natsu matsuri at the Ogawa Shrine next month." She spoke softly, and noted down something. It wasn't a question but a statement, as like all of her speech. He nodded to her statement, though he knew he didn't have to. He was getting used to her manner of speech. "So you'd bring me the cloth tomorrow, after school, same place?" Her eyes were clear and direct, meeting his flustered ones.
"Wha- cloth?" He looked surprised. "Cloth?" he repeated to her blank and puzzled face, the smile a fading memory.
"For the yukata." She studied his face. "Most of my customers come with bolts for me to sew." She pointed to the wall beside her, where the cloth bundles were neatly arranged. "But you don't have cloth." Her statement was soft, but it held a tinge of curiosity in it.
"No... I don't... is that a big problem?" He asked, scratching his head again, studying the bundles beside him.
"Iie. You simply have to buy some and pass it to me. Tell the shopkeeper you want a bolt for a yukata." She went back to her notebook.
"Etto..."
She looked up. Takashi gave a nervous smile, which she did not return.
"Etto... I don't... really know where to buy cloth..."
She studied his face, rapidly turning red again. Tilting her head, she looked down at her notebook again, and then looked up. "I can bring you to a shop tomorrow. After school."
"Ah? Ah... Arigatou..."
The sun had long set by the time he started walking home. The road was a bit unfamiliar at first, but he soon remembered how to get back to the school, and then back home from the school. Next time I must ask Takahiro-san whether there was a shorter way from her house to mine... He stopped his train of thought, realising that he might not go to her house anymore.
"How strange of me to think she'd ever invite me back to her house again..." He said aloud, to nobody in general, and his nervous laughter also had no audience. "But... but it would be nice if she did." His voice was low, as if admitting something to himself he had wanted to deny. That the strange girl intrigued him.
She was very different from any other girl he had met before... she was quiet, but not only that... she felt... strangely empty. Like she was a shell, with nothing inside. And something in him wanted to break that shell. Takashi couldn't stand the thought of someone so empty. Like her life was meaningless...
"Tomorrow...after school...desu ka?" He smiled at the thought, and continued his walk home.
Glossary [1] - Introductions. E.g. My name is Takahiro Iroi, pleased to make your acquaintance. [2] - Please wait a while. [3] - Sorry for my intrusion. [4] - You're a customer/guest, therefore... [5] - Without a doubt, he is the famous Taka-san.
. hai --- an affirmative answer . dozo --- please . etto --- a sign of hesitation, much like the english "umm" . yukata --- a bathrobe-like wraparound gown that is worn to summer festivals . yuumei --- famous . aa --- an informal way of agreeing . natsu matsuri --- summer festival . iie --- a negative answer . arigatou --- thank you . desu ka? --- makes the sentence a question
chiiyo's comments :
I was chain-listening to the Hoshi no Koe OST when I decided to write Iroi's story. Hoshi no Koe is a beautifully sad movie, and I still cry everytime I watch it. The OST is also enchanting and extremely bittersweet. Walking home one night, the character Iroi came to mind. Exquisitely sad, in desperate need of sunshine in her life, I really wanted to write how she came out of her shell. Using my favourite character from Prince of Tennis as the other character in this story was merely because I was too lazy to create another, and also I feel that Takashi is underwritten in the POT fandom. I absolutely love his character, and somehow I see so many intricacies in his life that other people neglect. So, this story was borne.